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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27254308">Fortress</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/melliejellie/pseuds/melliejellie'>melliejellie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bipolar Bokuto Koutarou, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pillow &amp; Blanket Forts, bipolar!bokuto, jumps around in time</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:26:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,007</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27254308</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/melliejellie/pseuds/melliejellie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Akaashi doesn't always know the best way to help his husband when he's struggling within his own mind, but he's never going to stop trying to be Bokuto's safest place.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>198</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Fortress</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/forbala/gifts">forbala</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A gift for my bud, Forbala!<br/>(I pull from my own experiences of being bipolar II for this.)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Akaashi promised Bokuto “for better or for worse” in front of all their friends and family at their small, garden ceremony, he meant it. And years later, he still means it. They’ve shared all their victories and happiest memories, but also all their personal failures and loses. It’s brought them closer together, but there are times when he still doesn’t truly understand what’s going on inside his bright, wonderful, and warm husband’s mind.</p><p>In high school, he called them Bokuto’s “moods.” Now he knows there’s words to describe those days when Bokuto is a different person. He doesn’t understand it, not truly, and sometimes he can’t even help, but he loves him all the same.</p><p>Akaashi knows something’s not quite right the moment he walks in through their front door and is greeted by silence and a dark living room.</p><p>He’s home later than usual, though usual is hard to come by in the manga editing world, but on a normal night Bokuto would be in the kitchen, humming to himself as he either gets started on dinner or snacks his way through their entire refrigerator after practice.</p><p>Walking further into their home, he sees a dim light pouring out from under their bedroom door.</p><p>Slowly, Akaashi pieces together bits of the past few days.</p><p>His husband’s intensely electric and infectious good moods.</p><p>Bokuto’s soaring confidence after his first time playing with his new team.</p><p>The past few nights out drinking with his new teammates and staying out far later than Bokuto usually would.</p><p>It’s not entirely unexpected. Bokuto’s never done well with transitions and joining MSBY, his first Division 1 team and a very popular team at that, has brought two major transitions along with it - a big move and a new group of people to learn to play with.</p><p>Setting down his bag and coat on their couch, Akaashi turns and sets his hand on their doorknob, taking a deep breath before he opens the door.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Bokuto’s First Year at University </em>
</p><p>Not knowing anything about what college was like, Akaashi had expected some changes when his boyfriend went off to college. Like any high school senior, Akaashi entertained thoughts of what it would be like in college, who he could be, what he could do, once he was no longer constrained by high school courses. When he could maybe, just maybe, find a place of his own.</p><p>So he expected Bokuto to go through the same journey of new self-discoveries. He imagined Bokuto would continue to be just as bright and exuberant as he spread his metaphorical wings to soar even higher.</p><p>Akaashi anticipated some growing pains. After all, Bokuto could get emotional when he didn’t feel like he was performing at his best, and university would bring with it a sea of new challenges that Bokuto hadn’t encountered before. But Akaash was sure he’d land on his feet. Bokuto always did.</p><p>At first he was down on himself, unsure. Akaashi was prepared for that, too. He used all his old strategies from their past two years playing together and being together at Fukurodani, and he usually found one that worked when they talked on the phone.</p><p>Then, for weeks, he watched Bokuto take off, wild and excitable again. When he wasn’t in class, he was practicing. When he wasn’t practicing, he was at the gym. When he wasn’t at the gym, he was out partying with the team or his other new friends.</p><p>It all seemed like normal college-kid life to Akaashi, even if it was a bit loud and full of people. Bokuto was different than him. Bokuto liked people.</p><p>But then it didn’t stop. For days, Akaashi knew from Bokuto’s oddly timed texts, he was barely sleeping. His boyfriend who always managed to forget the meaning of words but consistently keep to a strict, protein and nutrient-rich diet was suddenly forgetting meals.</p><p>It was hard for Akaashi to wrap his brain around what was happening. He wanted to help find a solution like he had before, but he was miles away and none of the old strategies seemed to work anymore. He comforted himself by thinking that at least Bokuto seemed happy.</p><p>And then he disappeared. Not even two months into his first semester, Bokuto stopped returning any of Akaashi’s phone calls. Akaashi’s texts were unanswered for days until the little “read” chark mark even stopped appearing because Bokuto wasn’t reading them at all.</p><p>Akaashi wondered what he’d done wrong, or if something terrible had happened to Bokuto. No one would think to call the contact labeled ‘<em> kaashi </em> if there was an emergency. Would Bokuto’s family think to call him? He was an anxious mess and having trouble focusing in class.</p><p>One afternoon he was considering going over to Bokuto’s parents after practice to ask until he got a phone call from Bokuto in the middle of his first class of the morning. He watched it ring and wanted to answer but he stayed in his seat, tapping his pen on his desk until a classmate shot him a look. His phone vibrated. A voicemail.</p><p>Bokuto had never left him a voicemail. Not even once.</p><p>He excused himself to go to the bathroom and played the message, tears bubbling up and spilling over as he listened to Bokuto list every single thing he hated about himself-- how he’s actually awful to be around and had just tricked people over the years, but sooner or later they all get tired of him.</p><p>Akaashi called him back without letting the message finish, his heart breaking for the boy he loved who was no longer just on a different floor in the same school building where he could go and hug Bokuto as hard as he could. Worry raced in his heart as the phone rang and rang until Bokuto finally picked up.</p><p>“I love you!” He yelled and it wasn’t the first time he’d said those words to Bokuto, but it was the first time he screamed it, put his entire soul behind the words.</p><p>“I love you,” he repeated. “And everyone here misses you--”</p><p>Until the bell rang he listed over and over again everyone who liked Bokuto, who loved him for real until Bokuto’s protests cracked into a sob.</p><p>Hanging up was impossibly hard. He skipped practice that afternoon and talked to Bokuto until they both fell asleep that night with their call still connected.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Present </em>
</p><p>“Kou?” Akaashi asks softly as he steps into their bedroom. His husband is sitting in the corner by their closest, his legs stretched out long, his arms heavy at his sides, his head down and his back slipping down the wall. He doesn’t lift his head.</p><p>Akaashi shuts the door behind him again, not because they need any privacy, but because Bokuto had it closed. He always does when he’s like this, like he doesn’t want it sinking in to the rest of the house. Or like he needs to cage himself in somewhere.</p><p>Slowly he crosses the floor and settles himself near his husband without saying anything. He leaves space, knowing Bokuto might need it.</p><p>“I love you.” That truth leaves his lips on instinct. In these moments, he’s trying to learn to say only what’s necessary, only what’s real.</p><p>Bokuto doesn’t move, doesn’t make a sound.</p><p>In high school, Bokuto would tuck himself under desks or sit under the bleachers, but he’d always still look like himself. Now, though, Bokuto seems like a lifeless doll tossed onto the floor, crumpled in the corner. Akaashi breathes quietly beside him, wishing he could understand where all of Bokuto’s brightness goes during these times.</p><p>Medically, he knows the answer.</p><p>It’s just so hard to love someone and know he can’t fix what hurts him.</p><p>Tentatively he reaches out his hand. He barely brushes against Bokuto’s skin when his husband yanks his hand away like he’s been burned.</p><p>Akaashi’s learned not to take it personally after all these years, but the sting never really dulls. It still feels like a rejection.</p><p>Bokuto laboriously shifts himself closer to the wall, widening the distance between them.</p><p>“Kou, are you hungry?” Akaashi asks gently.</p><p>Bokuto gently shakes his head.</p><p>“Do you want me to stay?”</p><p>He shrugs, then slumps deeper against the wall.</p><p>“Or do you want to be alone?”</p><p>In a flash, Bokuto’s hands fly up to clench in his hair. Through gritted teeth, he yells, “I don’t know! Stop asking so many questions. Why are you asking me so many things? I can’t right now. I can’t, I can’t--” he repeats those last two words like a vengeful mantra, half-heartbroken, half-frustrated beyond repair.</p><p>Akaashi wants to reach out and touch him, rub his back and it make it better, but this already isn’t feeling like the right solution. He doesn’t want to make it worse, but he wants him to know he’s not alone.</p><p>“Go. Just go.” Bokuto says, voice suddenly hollow again as his head hits the wall, face still covered with his hands.</p><p>“I love you,” Akaashi says again, forcing the words out from around the lump in his throat.</p><p>When Bokuto doesn’t move or reply, he gets up and heads to the door, slowly turning the knob as he exhales a shuddering breath.</p><p>“You shouldn’t,” he hears Bokuto whisper as the door clicks shut behind him.</p><p>Logically, Akaashi can understand what’s happening with Bokuto. On paper, it sounds simple.</p><p>Reality is never that simple.</p><p>Akaashi looks at their couch and fights the urge to sit there and wallow in what feels like another failure, another rejection from the man he loves. He’s already emotionally spent for the day. He’s exhausted from work and he’s shouldered his own sea of stresses today, but there are certain things that are true in this moment:</p><p>They need some kind of dinner.</p><p>Bokuto needs him more then Akaashi needs to wallow.</p><p>He can rest later, hopefully with Bokuto beside him.</p><p>On the walk to the convenience store, Akaashi starts to think of other ideas.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Bokuto’s First Semi-Pro Team </em>
</p><p>Somewhere between Bokuto’s freshman year and his junior year, when he got picked up by a semi-pro team, Akaashi began to notice the anger.</p><p>Looking back, he thinks it was always there, held back by Bokuto’s sheer will and desire to always be the happy guy, but as the stress grew, his boyfriend was less able to keep a hold on everything.</p><p>Bokuto was in his final year of university and balancing classwork and a more demanding practice schedule led by his very intense new coach. The team wasn’t Division 1, but they were on the cusp of it and the entire training staff was pinpointing weaknesses in the team as a whole and each individual player to ensure success this season.</p><p>Akaashi saw the same patterns repeating, but at least he was closer to Bokuto physically now. When he graduated from Fukurodani, the couple surprised absolutely no one by moving in together. From the outside, it looked like a huge step. From the inside, Bokuto and Akaashi knew in their hearts that it was a just a happy inevitability. They both knew they were meant to be together. Why overcomplicate things?</p><p>Waking up next to his boyfriend in bed was one of Akaashi’s most singular joys. Bokuto was usually up first, but he tended to look at his phone for a while and then accidentally fall back asleep. Akaashi would hear the phone clatter and peek an eye open to see the love of his life snoring softly with his mouth wide open beside him. Their bed was cheap and small, but it was theirs. And with not much wiggle room, there was a lot of forced cuddling that Akaashi definitely loved.</p><p>It was amazing coming back to a warm home that they shared. From the team jacket thrown over the back of the couch or Bokuto’s childhood stuffed animal that he still slept with on their bed, Akaashi could see bits of his boyfriend everywhere. Pictures of them dotted every wall. It was a tiny apartment, but it instantly felt like home because of who was there.</p><p>Yet, the same Bokuto who wrote him tiny notes in his lunchbox and made the best pancakes on Saturday mornings was also the same Bokuto whose sulking took on an entirely new shape and whose frustrations with himself sometimes boiled over into grit teeth, a booming yell, and angrily clenched fists that left Akaashi stunned.</p><p>He had no idea how to help.</p><p>The tricks from high school were nothing now. Even reminding Bokuto of those who loved him the most wouldn’t work.</p><p>“I love you. You know I love you,” he’d say with all the confidence he could muster, even when his voice wanted to shake.</p><p>Bokuto wouldn’t look at him as he replied with cold certainty, “You shouldn’t. There’s nothing here to love.”</p><p>He’d try yelling it, tried being louder than the nasty words in Bokuto’s head, but there always seemed to be something louder there, drowning him out and filling Bokuto’s mind with the worst of himself.</p><p>No, not himself. From the outside, Akaashi saw that Bokuto imagined himself as this wholly other person, this bad man who thought horrible things and ruined everything he touched.</p><p>None of it made sense. The Bokuto Akaashi knew and loved was none of those things. From the first moment Akaashi saw him, he knew he was a star and nothing in their life together had ever proved otherwise. Even at his lowest, Bokuto cared deeply for others and tried, always tried so hard to his his best. To be his best.</p><p>And one afternoon, after days of bouncing around, overly excitable and fun with seemingly random, quick bursts of intense anger, Bokuto had ended up in their bed with the blinds closed, lights off, silent and seething on top of the blankets.</p><p>Akaashi stared at his boyfriend and the way he crunched his large frame as small as it would go, diminishing himself into how small he must feel inside.</p><p>That time, Akaashi hadn’t tried to find the right words. He’d climbed into their bed and aligned himself along Bokuto’s broad back, their legs tangled together, and he’d held him tight. Akaashi felt like Bokuto was past the need for words. Maybe Bokuto just needed to know he was there, that he’d always be there.</p><p>For a long while Bokuto fought it, trying to twist his body away.</p><p>“Go away,” he growled.</p><p>Akaashi didn’t reply with words, only held him tighter.</p><p>“I said go away!” His voice grew louder. “You shouldn’t be here. No one should be there for me. Get out of here and leave me by myself. I’m supposed to be alone!”</p><p>Again, only tighter, clinging to him even as his body tried to pull away.</p><p>“Let go of me! Leave me alone!” He yelled.</p><p>“No!” Akaashi yelled back.</p><p>Bokuto’s limp body went tense in Akaashi’s arms, but he held on, giving him space when he thought Bokuto needed it, hugging harder when he felt like he could. And slowly, his boyfriend unfurled. Like a blooming flower, his body opened, but the end result was anything but beautiful. With the tension gone, Bokuto was heavy and lifeless in his arms.</p><p>All he ever wanted to be was Bokuto’s safe place, the same way his kind, thoughtful boyfriend was for him. But when it counted, he could no longer find the right words to say to bolster his spirits.</p><p>Akaashi shuddered out a breath and gripped Bokuto as hard as he could, his face pressed against his t-shirt, willing everything he felt for the other man to be felt through their bodies if it couldn’t be said with words. He held Bokuto until his own arms, tired and spent, gave up, and he sunk behind him, his cheek pressed against spot just under his neck. Through the fabric his kissed him and sniffed back the tears he felt coming but refused to let fall.</p><p>“I’m weak,” Bokuto broke the silence finally, his voice shaky and small.</p><p>And instead of following his instincts, instead of trying to fix everything right away and remind Bokuto that he’s anything but weak, Akaashi nodded with his skin against his shirt and said, “we all feel that way sometimes. I’m sad you feel that way now.”</p><p>“Other people <em> feel </em> weak. I <em> am </em> weak.”</p><p>Akaashi held him a little tighter. “Then I’ll be strong for you. Until you feel strong enough on your own again.”</p><p>The room fell silent and Akaashi gripped at the man in his arms, desperately hoping he hadn’t said the wrong thing.</p><p>Then Bokuto’s body shook and a wracking sob burst from his throat. Akaashi held him through that, too, as his own tears finally broke free.</p><p>That time it took several days before the fog seemed to lift  and Bokuto was back to greeting him with exuberant kisses at their front door, making strange, new recipes for them to try, and being every bit the Bokuto he knew never left.</p><p>He was strong again.</p><p>But Akaashi made sure he knew he didn’t have to be the strongest all the time.</p><p>“Even the best ace needs a good setter, you know,” he said one night while they were cleaning dishes, speaking in volleyball metaphors. His boyfriend’s very particular love language.</p><p>“I know that,” Bokuto laughed, “of course I know you’re always there for me.” Bokuto pecked him on the cheek. “And you’re still the best setter I’ve ever known.”</p><p>“I know that’s not true,” Akaashi replied with a look. “I’ve been to your games. Both of your team’s setters are incredible.”</p><p>“But they’re not you,” Bokuto said, scrunching up his nose and inching back towards Akaashi’s face, another kiss imminent. “You’re like my-- like my-- life setter.”</p><p>Akaashi tipped his head back and laughed. “And you’re my life ace?”</p><p>“Yeah!” Bokuto visibly lit up at that. “I’ll keep scoring for you and can keep setting for me.”</p><p>“In life?”</p><p>“Yep,” Bokuto said with certainty like he’d just discovered some grand, meaningful secret, “in life.” And placed a big, messy kiss on his lips.</p><p>It took a few more months of extremes before Bokuto agreed to start seeking some help. In the year that followed, they learned a lot and Bokuto finally had a set of words to label what was wrong.</p><p>Akaashi heard to the way Bokuto started to change the way he talked about his highs and lows, the way the blame wasn’t always on himself. It wasn’t easy, it wasn’t fast, but he watched as the man he loved took back a little more of himself.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Present </em>
</p><p>Akaashi throws a dish towel over the three containers of convenience store spaghetti to keep them warm while he sets about readying the next part of his plan.</p><p>If Bokuto’s lacking safety and warmth, then Akaashi’s going to find a way to serve up some safety and warmth. He’s determined.</p><p>He’s glad that Bokuto did laundry yesterday and that their extra sheets were still in the dryer. He grabs those and every blanket he can find. They don’t have a ton of extra things, but this will be more than plenty.</p><p>It’s been a few years since he’s made a blanket fort. A lot of years. Not since his second year at Fukurodani where the volleyball team, at Bokuto’s suggestion, built a giant one to fill their cabin at team retreat.</p><p>Akaashi uses what he remembers from that night about sturdy construction, a tiny smile peeking from the corner of his lips as he recalls Bokuto standing in the cabin living room with his hands on his hips, tongue peeking out from his mouth, brows furrowed with complete seriousness.</p><p>Bokuto is a master of cozy construction. Akaashi will just do his best.</p><p>He ends up keeping it simple, draping their largest blanket from the back of their couch to two chairs he pulled from their kitchen. The other blankets extend the walls and keep it dark but cozy. He uses the sheets to make a little nest inside and brings in pillows from the couch to make two seats.</p><p>Akaashi grabs the spaghetti from the counter and puts them in the fort with disposable forks and a bunch of paper towels. Then he walks to the bedroom, takes another quick breath for himself, and opens the door.</p><p>The lights are still on. That’s a good sign.</p><p>Slowly, he walks over to his husband and crouches down beside him, gently taking his hand in his own. This time Bokuto doesn’t pull away.</p><p>“I have a surprise for you.”</p><p>Bokuto’s head is still down and turned more towards the wall than Akaashi.</p><p>“That’s too nice. I don’t deserve it. I don’t want you to do nice things for me.”</p><p>“Too bad,” Akaashi replies, sharper than he intended. But Bokuto’s eyes glance towards him. He stays resolute in his tone now that he’s gotten his attention. Maybe it’s time for a different approach. “I am your <em> husband </em> and I love you, so I do things like this because I <em> want </em> to and there’s nothing you can do to stop me because it’s my choice.” He takes a breath. “So there.”</p><p>Bokuto’s head turns to face him and there’s a gentle squeeze around his hand.</p><p>Akaashi feels his heart lighten the slightest bit.</p><p>Without another word, he heaves his husband up off the floor and guides him towards their living room. There’s an instant pang of hurt when Bokuto doesn’t outwardly react to the fort, but Akaashi feels good when Bokuto lets go of his hand and climbs inside first.</p><p>Akaashi follows him in from the other side, settling in on his couch pillow with Bokuto beside him.</p><p>Bokuto shifts close enough that their arms are touching. Akaashi beams at the gesture, knowing what it’s taking for Bokuto to do even the smallest things now, and he presents Bokuto with his double servings spaghetti.</p><p>In silence, they eat the salty, saucy perfection that is definitely not healthy, but very delicious convenience store spaghetti. Akaashi swears their local store does something special with it. It’s cheap. It’s comforting. And more importantly, Bokuto loves it. Even though he was slow to begin eating, soon enough he’s finished his first container and is popping open the second.</p><p>His shoulders are still slumped. He’s still unnervingly quiet, but bits of Bokuto are poking through.</p><p>Akaashi reaches over to wipe sauce from the corner of his lips.</p><p>Bokuto freezes, his eyes darting to meet Akaashi’s. Gradually, there’s a glimpse of a tiny smile growing from the spot where Akaashi’s thumb rests on his face.</p><p>By the time they’re both done and leaning back against the couch with their empty trays out in front of them, there’s even more hints of Bokuto poking through the thick fog in his mind.</p><p>“I made an ass of myself today,” Bokuto finally says, squeezing his hand where Akaashi has laced their fingers together in between them.</p><p>Akaashi fights the urge to tell him no, to remind him how much everyone loves him.</p><p>He waits. He listens.</p><p>“We had a press event with the local news and, I’m not even a regular on the team yet, but I talked too much. I was way too loud. There I am, new to the team, grabbing the spotlight and probably talking over people. Everyone is over me. I know it. I’m way too much. I always am. I do too much. I go too hard. And people hate it. They always hate it. Sometimes I trick people into liking me, but I’m selfish.”</p><p>While he listened, Akaashi pulled one of the blankets down from a side wall. The moment Bokuto’s done sharing, he wraps it around both their shoulders and scoots in close, binding them together under the warmth.</p><p>There’s about a thousand different ways this can go, a thousand things Akaashi could try to say. At some point or another, he’s said it, he’s tried it. So in this moment, he stops calculating, stops thinking. He just speaks.</p><p>Akaashi shimmies a little closer to his husband and says firmly, “You are the least selfish person I know. You can be loud. You can be energetic. But so is the sun, Kou, and you’re-- you’re like the sun.” He watches Bokuto’s eyes move to meet his, the pain still so clear behind them, but at least he’s listening. At least Bokuto’s here. There’s life in his eyes now.</p><p>“And like the sun,” Akaashi’s not sure where he’s headed but he can feel something growing there, “like the sun sometimes you burn really super bright. You bring life and warmth to everything you touch. But then night comes, right? This is the night. And it’s scary without the sun. I’m--” he places a hand on Bokuto’s cheek, “I’m so sad when the sun’s gone, but I know that it’ll be back. It takes time, but it always returns.”</p><p>He swallows around a lump in his throat. He feels pinpricks at the back of his eyes. “Maybe that doesn’t make sense. I don’t know. But if it’s night and the sun’s gone away for a bit, then I’m still here, sitting in the nighttime with you.” Akaashi holds Bokuto’s hand a little tighter. “In the little fort I made for us.”</p><p>“I like the fort,” Bokuto says simply.</p><p>It’s the first positive thing he’s said. It’s a foothold. Akaashi knows they’ve climbed out of this before. They’ll do it again.</p><p>“Did you like the spaghetti, too?”</p><p>Bokuto nods then lets their foreheads fall together. He sighs. “The team hates me.”</p><p>“I like you,” Akaashi kisses the top of his nose. “I love you <em> and </em> I like you. And I bet that all those stories that you’ve been telling me, all the good things you’ve had happen since joining the team, I bet those things are real, too. Today happened, but so did all those other good days.”</p><p>“Hm,” Bokuto grunts softly.</p><p>Akaashi wraps his arms around his husband’s wide shoulders, pressing their faces closer as he wraps the blanket tighter around them both.</p><p>They end up watching cooking videos on Akaashi’s tablet because all of Bokuto’s favorite channels are home chefs. People would assume it’s all volleyball, all the time. To be fair, there is also a lot of volleyball, but Bokuto loves tying his printed aprons around his neck and cooking up something special just for the two of them.</p><p>On nights when they don’t eat cheap spaghetti, that is.</p><p>Wrapped up in blankets and sheets, they fall asleep on their living room floor under the protection of the blanket fort.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>In the morning, Akaashi’s sleep-ridden brain can’t remember where he is. On instinct, he turns his head to search for Bokuto and smiles when he sees him there, eyes open, gazing back at him from where his head rests on top of a balled up lump of blanket.</p><p>“Morning, Kou.”</p><p>“Mornin’ angel,” he says softly and leans over to press a gentle kiss to Akaashi’s lips. As he slowly pulls away, he shifts his body until he’s lower down in the fort, his feet sticking out from the end, and he buries his head into Akaashi’s chest.</p><p>“Thank you,” he says, pressing another kiss against the fabric of Akaashi’s t-shirt.</p><p>In answer, Akaashi wraps his arms around his husband’s back, holding him tight against his body. “Are we staying in here for a while or do you need to get up?”</p><p>“I need to get up and do my run but, I don’t know, babe. Today’s feeling like a ‘hard to do anything’ kind of day.”</p><p>“Understandable.” Akaashi rubs big, lazy circles on his back, willing those muscles to relax and sink back into the safety of the blanket fort. “The rest of the day can wait. Your run can wait. How about breakfast first?”</p><p>Bokuto doesn’t say anything for a while, and Akaashi simply continues to hold him.</p><p>“Keiji,” he says after a while,  “I’m sorry. Sorry that you have to help me. I should be there for you.”</p><p>“You are,” Akaashi replies with conviction.</p><p>“When? I don’t think I am.”</p><p>“Constantly!”</p><p>“But you don’t need as much. You’re not a mess.”</p><p>“Kou,” Akaashi can’t help the small laugh that tumbles out, “you know I love you, but that is the biggest load of garbage you’ve ever said.”</p><p>Bokuto pulls back slightly to look up at him with eyes, one eyebrow raised in question.</p><p>Akaashi stares back. “I am absolutely a big mess, too. For years now you’ve been the light that keeps me going. I-- without you I never would be this happy.”</p><p>“But I mess things up!”</p><p>“And I do, too! I make you upset sometimes. I say the wrong thing when I’m exhausted and ruin your night. We’re human.”</p><p>“But I’m a mess,” Bokuto tucks himself back against Akaashi’s shirt.</p><p>“No, you’re you. And I love you <em> because </em> you’re you.”</p><p>Suddenly, Bokuto’s pulling away, wrapping his arms around Akaashi, and in one swift motion, pulling Akaashi’s body on top of his.</p><p>“I love you, too,” Bokuto says when their eyes meet. There’s a hint of a smile there, small but sure. The warmth Akaashi can feel from Bokuto’s body, from his arms wrapped around him, that’s the only reassurance he needs that his husband is returning to himself.</p><p>
  <span>It’s still night, but maybe there’s peeks of the sun over the horizon.</span>
</p><p>“Well, that was all my strength for the day,” Bokuto chuckles weakly.</p><p>“You chose to spend it well,” Akaashi grins.</p><p>Bokuto rubs their noses together. “I’d say so.”</p><p>With Bokuto’s arms wrapped around him, Akaashi leans in and seals their lips together. He holds Bokuto’s face in his hands like the precious thing he is and says with his kisses everything he can’t always say right with his words.</p><p>Because it’s this physical touch, these soft but certain kisses, this very real connection between them that is louder and more powerful than anything inside Bokuto’s head.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you, Forbala, my friend, for the beautiful idea!<br/>Hurt/comfort can be such a rich indulgence sometimes. Our hearts just need it!</p><p>I, too, have always thought that Bokuto might be “one of us” -- ya know, the tricky brain buds. Writing this was difficult but also wonderfully cathartic. And I’m actually posting it on a day when I’m having a bit of a struggle myself. Felt like a good time.</p><p>If you find anything to connect to in my silly words, dear reader, let me know if you can. Fiction brings us all a little closer together.</p><p>(Also, oh my goodness, “Bipolar Bokuto Koutarou” is an existing tag. What a gift. I shall now explore. Do we need a club? A little group? “Bokuto’s Brain Buds?” I’d be down.)</p><p>Comments, kudos, and bookmarks make me smile! (And I always reply to comments!)</p><p>Chat with me on Twitter - <a href="https://twitter.com/HeyMellieJellie">@HeyMellieJellie</a>. I scream about haikyuu and post story threads, too!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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